Blue and Black Blossoms
by ThoughtCriminal
Summary: Al/Rachel...really
1. Craving

Spoilers for…probably everything, I don't keep track anymore.

Rated M for language and hawtness

Short, quick (though hopefully still delicious) chapters, probably totaling three.

I own nothing. Rachel Morgan and all the fun of the Hollows universe belong to the Divine Kim. I just get to play there sometimes.

I apologize beforehand for the cheesy device, but I so did not want to write 20+pages of soul-searching and angst and emotional development etc. etc. So yeah, right to the good stuff. It could happen, right? Enjoy.

1. Craving

It was driving me fucking crazy. All day I'd been trying to ignore it, praying it would fade. But as the sun set it only got worse and worse until I felt that I'd loose my mind if I didn't do something to quell the insatiable fire that had suddenly ignited in my body, devouring my will and common sense as readily as kindling. I had to have him, and I could think of nothing else…

I tried running. It was still too chilly outside and I lost count of the times I'd slipped in the ice and snow melt. I tried cold showers. Something about the water though made it even worse. The cold turned to a burn, and it became his hot fingers roughly tracing my skin, his wet mouth moving down my breasts, his hard…

Bad Rachel, I thought to myself. But it was even worse now that I knew the usual conventions wouldn't cure this fever. And worse, now that it was nightfall, all I had to do was call him…

I tried to imagine that conversation. _Yes Al, I am unbelievably horny for you. Get your tight demon ass over here. Now. _I shook my head, he wouldn't believe me. Hell, I could hardly believe me! I had no idea what was going on with me. Sure, Al and I had been getting along okay, I guess. Besides him being overbearing and ridiculously difficult at times, my Saturdays weren't turning out to be as bad as I had feared. He had insisted on working on my Latin, which though I hated had proved immensely useful. Al had also managed to instill some foundational ley line work into my head, something which I desperately needed since I always seemed to be learning things by the seat of my pants. It was going…okay. But this? This was insane. I felt half delirious with desire. I was damned thankful Ivy was spending the whole day with her sister, Erica. If I was freaking out with lust and fear, what would it have done to her?

I raced back towards the kitchen, barely stopped myself from fingering my summoning glass and picked up the phone instead. I laughed half-hysterically when I thought of calling Ceri and asking her. _Hi Ceri? How are you? No, I'm fine, but do you happen to know if female demons go into heat? _Because that was the only thing I could think of. That or a curse. And if Al or Newt or anyone else had cursed me into feeling like this, I was freaking going to murder them.

It was almost early spring, everything else in the world seemed ready to burst into bloom. I couldn't help but stick my head out the window and into the garden in the back of the church. I could smell the wet, fertile earth, the rain still to come in the air, the refreshing sharpness of new things beginning to grow. And it all made me think of Al. Not Marshall, or my dead love, Kisten, or even my last boyfriend, Nick. The demon was the only being occupying my mind for any length of time. My spastic thoughts kept returning to him, and what exactly I'd like him to do with those strong hands, after he'd lost the gloves. I couldn't help but remember the first time he'd actually touched me without those damned gloves. The first time I'd gone to him willingly into the Ever-After. I had been surprised. His hands were warm, and big, surprisingly rough from work, and even more surprisingly gentle, when he wanted to be.

I closed my eyes. I could imagine it perfectly: gentle in some ways, rough in more. Oh my god. I was going to die or kill someone or both.

It didn't help that I was fascinated with wondering how different it would be too. If witches came from demons, would it be just like with a witch? Would we give into the instinct to power-pull, to determine the strength and worth of a potential mate? I thought Al would probably be able to outdo me, but I was sure I could at least give him a run for his money. I shuddered just at the thought. My knees gave way and I embraced the cold of the kitchen floor, stretching full out on it and wishing the cold could get past my skin and extinguish the heat that was burning me up inside.

I heard pixie wings, but it was distant. I knew his green velvet-clad British lord look was an illusion spell since Ceri had commented on mixing that spell so much she could do it in her sleep. I had to wonder, just with a hint of fear, would he take off something other than his clothes? What did unspelled demons look like? Did he have to take off the spell in order to…probably not, I decided. And besides, that face, those clothes I used to think were ridiculous, that was what I think of when I think of Al. My mind wanted to say it would be nervous, even scared of something else, but I knew it was pretense. In the state I was in, I'd probably screw anything with a British accent.

I breathed deeply, catching a few scents on the cold linoleum. Cat, spilled coffee, some cookie dough I must have splattered from last time I baked, and then I sat up suddenly, stunned and shaking and almost feeling sick. The faintest trace of burnt amber was there, probably from last Saturday when I'd actually called Al from my kitchen, and he had stopped in for a few minutes to be a pain in the ass before jumping us through the lines. And the mere ghost of a scent was hitting all my buttons, making the ache I'd almost gotten use to so much worse and fresh, like comparing a scabbed knee with disembowelment. It was the burnt amber smell I'd been getting used to during my forays into the Ever-After and demon society, but underneath it I swear I could just smell _him_. I knew then I couldn't care what he looked like, as long as he smelled like _that._ It was scary, and I was shaking again, but not entirely from fear.

"Rachel?" asked Jenks' worried voice. I glanced up to see him standing in his Peter Pan pose on the counter directly above me. "Tink's titties, why are you on the floor?" I just shook my head at him. What could I say? He was freaking out enough about me going after Pierce. He'd have a freaking aneurism if he knew who I was desperately craving now.

He flew down closer to my face. It was too much effort to keep watching him, and I slumped fully on the floor. I heard him calling me, trying to get me to tell him what was wrong. I didn't want to talk anymore. I only wanted one thing, or at least one person, but to do that…could I really do that? I hadn't felt like this yesterday, did I? I knew I hadn't, but still, today, he was the only thing on my mind.

I nearly screamed when I felt the soft, reassuring touch of velvet on my bare arms. He was here, above me, and I was on the floor looking up. But when I looked into his red eyes that had once seemed so alien and frightening, I felt myself falling into them.


	2. Momentum

Thanks everyone so much for reviewing. I can't believe what a reception this story has gotten already =) Trust me, it gets better…or worse, depending on how you look at it.

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"What the hell are you doing here?" I said shakily. He raised one eyebrow, staring down at me, managing to look both haughty and inquisitive at the same time. _What the hell are you doing here and why aren't you stripping down and screwing me on the kitchen floor, right now?_ I shook my head and clamped my mouth shut. I had to look away. Looking at him, his arms on my shoulders, lifting me slightly off the floor, the heat of his body above me…it was too much. I…

"She was like this when I found her," Jenks said unhelpfully, hovering anxiously somewhere near the demon's shoulder. Jenks called him? I thought foggily. Al's hand rose to the side of my neck, pushed slightly, then slid up to my forehead, the light warmth of his big hand resting there only a moment. His eyes never left my face.

"Is my itch-witch not feeling well?" Al asked, and for a moment anger burnt through the desire that had been suffocating me all day. Damn condescending bastard. My hand rose on its own and I grabbed the front of his coat. His eyes widened, amused. My hand rose higher, and he leaned his face into my hand when it touched his cheek. He looked like he was about to laugh, but his face changed to one of shock and outrage when I raked my fingernails down the side of his face.

_Who's not feeling well now, bastard, _I thought vindictively as I fought to gain my feet quickly. Al had gone misty to escape my surprise onslaught, but he'd be back. And now he'd be pissed.

I had to grab hold of the counter top to get up, but then my legs gave out. I would have been on the floor again, but Al materialized behind me and wrapped an arm around my waist, the other across my shoulders, and pulled me back against him. My body went limp in his arms of its own volition while my brain hammered incessantly to try and figure out what the hell was going on.

"You'll pay for that," he whispered in my ear. His arms tightened around me as if expecting me to fight him. Being in his arms had made it worse and better. The ache was still there, the demand, but it was a little more muted, more patient, now that Al was here and I was pushed up against the front of him. I shuddered then let my head loll against his shoulder. He was threatening, going on like he does, but I didn't care. The smell of him was thick in my nose, close enough that I would've sworn I could taste him. The heat of his body, the force of his arms, held me completely.

He stopped his tirade suddenly, and the silence brought back my attention. I suddenly cared about my posture, leaning back against him, head back on his shoulder, and tried to get my feet under me and put some distance between his chest and my back. God, what the hell would he think was wrong with me? Maybe I could say I hit my head…

"Rachel?" he asked softly, his voice hot and moist in my ear. I felt like screaming. I considered doing it; it might make him let me go or hold me closer, both of which sounded good to my divided and frenzied mind. Al's grip on my loosened, but still he held on, kept me against him. One hand traced gently over the fabric on my hip. He knew something was up, he knew it! My jaw was aching from how tightly I was holding my mouth shut. I was overwhelmed again, terrified he'd figure out what was up and impatient for him to do something about it.

"She's been like this, how long?" Al said, and I could hear the buzz of pixie wings again. Oh god, Jenks was watching all of this. I tried to stand on my own again, but his hand soothed me back to him, rubbing gently across my shirt, pressing slightly, gliding smoothly. I couldn't help it, I whimpered, and his arms squeezed slightly, making me close my eyes as I was pulled even closer against him.

"She's been out on the kitchen floor for almost half an hour, but she has been acting," Jenks paused, considering. "Well, she's been weird all day," he finished. My eyes cracked open and I could see him hovering above the kitchen counter, face pinched and bright eyes watching me carefully.

The guilt that I had worried him enough to summon Al cleared my head for a moment. "Sorry Jenks," I said, and he jumped back a few inches at my words, surprised I guess that I was speaking again. "I'm fine, really," I lied, and I didn't have to see his face to know he thought I was full of it. Hell, I was full of it. I was wrapped up in a demon's arms and happier about it than a pixie with an unguarded bottle of maple syrup. That, in my opinion, was most definitely not fine.

I gasped. With one deft movement, he had pulled my hair aside and like ice and heat at once, I felt his lips on the back of my neck. I pushed back into him, I moaned, I felt like a shivery and warm tower of jell-o.

"What the hell are you doing to her?" Jenks yelled, outraged and panicked at once.

"She's…fine," Al said softly, his mouth still hovering above the soft, sensitive skin on the back of my neck. The heat of his breath on me was probably what did it. Suddenly, I had will back in my limbs. I struggled, and his arms gripped automatically before realizing what I was doing and loosening.

Jenks watched open-mouthed as I turned in Al's arms so I could stand face-to-face with him. My hands that had suddenly felt so alive with the need to touch him back fell limply to my sides. Now that I could see, not just feel him, I had enough doubt to tame the desire that still echoed throughout my body, momentarily at least.

His red eyes that had seemed so alien and frightening were wide in surprise, but the grin on his face was unmistakable. The cockiness pissed me off, giving me yet another weapon to try and fight off this…well, whatever the hell it was that was happening to me.

I pushed my head against his shoulder, but kept my face turned so I could see his expression and keep some of my sanity. One of his hand was stroking my hair and my eyes fluttered shut briefly.

My tongue felt heavy and useless, but I forced the words out. I wanted to hear his answer, and I had to, I had to know if he had been responsible for this. "What is this?" I asked, and the words sounded distant and wrong.

His other arm was still around my waist, gentle, but holding me to him. "This?" he asked lightly, the look in his eyes betraying his nonchalant tone. His fingers were still running through my hair, making every nerve on my scalp tingle and my limbs feel heavy. Al sighed when I rested my head against his chest. I breathed in deeply, holding the mixed scents of velvet, burnt amber, and the warm, musky smell of just him.

"This is as it should be," he finished, and I felt slightly vindicated that he was at least somewhat distracted, though not nearly so much as I. But that wasn't an answer, and least not one I was satisfied with. I pulled one hand off his shirt and tried to lift it up, maybe grab an ear or something, but Al caught my hand and forced it back down. "None of that again," he murmured and tapped a finger lightly on my nose, like he was disciplining a kitten. Jerk.

"Fairy crap!" Jenks yelled, and his voice made me jerk in surprise. I had forgotten he was here. Damn it.

"Rachel, just say it and I'll pix this goat-eyed bastard until he scratches his skin off." Jenks was buzzing angrily nearby, but hadn't approached any closer. I was glad for it; I didn't think Al would hurt him, not really, but still…

"Get lost, bug," Al didn't even spare him a glance. His eyes were on my face, one hand now tracing along my neck and cheek. And I was looking back at him, barely even hearing Jenks's words.

"Let me jump you through the line, Rachel." His eyes were boring into my own. I felt worse than drunk, I felt half-drowned. "Then we can be alone," he spoke against my skin before gently placing his lips on the hollow of my neck.

There was enough to fear to let me think, even with the feel of his lips on me. The Ever-After? No way in hell. Al's place wasn't the shambles it had been when I'd first started my lessons, but I sure as hell wasn't going to head back there willing and crawl into his bed. And even worse, what if I ran into some other demon than Al? Would I still feel this way? I wasn't sure my sanity could deal with that. As trepid as I was about showing up in the Ever-After like this, all I was able to get out of my mouth was a less-than stern "no".

Al looked irritated, but he couldn't stay grumpy for long, not with me trembling and practically begging for it in his arms. My bed was on holy ground, so that was out too. God, was I really thinking this? Could I really do this?

"Fine," he said and briskly I was shocked and chilled, abandoned in the kitchen as he headed to the back room. What the hell? I thought of following him, but already he was back, the blanket from the back of the couch rolled-up in his arms. My eyes had a hard time leaving it. Ivy had bought it to give the room some color. I knew how soft it was, and the purple looked good against his green velvet. His other arm went around my waist and tugged me towards the backdoor.

"I know a place," Al practically purred in my ear, making it hard to think about anything else.

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Sigh, again I feel bad about Al. I mean, I knew Kim was a goddess, but this is tough…Al is hard, in more ways than one =P

Final chapter will be a bit of time in coming. This chapter might be called momentum, but I'm losing my own.


	3. Consummation

Here's the third and final chapter, see Pixieluv13, you didn't die waiting!

Okay, was thinking about a forth part because of somebody's very insightful comment that got my creative juices flowing (thank you for the stimulating review, Lisa!) but decided to stick to three parts; thus this chapter is longer, and thus, the pacing is off, but fan fictions is all about funnsies (and bunnies and candy), so unbalanced pacing is okay, yeahs? Anyway, I tried my best and I hope you enjoy it.

Also…M rating, remember? If you've read my other M rated fic, you know what this sort of reminder warning means…as if the chapter's title wasn't enough of a hint. Also, slight itsy teensie warning. When I was rereading, definitely can see a slight theme of non con, so if that bugs you, don't read anymore =)

Can't believe how much positive feedback I've gotten for this fic. I was sure it was going to the one everyone read out of morbid curiosity and nobody wanted to comment on because of the subject matter, thank you all for showing love for an Al/Rachel fic. That being said, I think I've gotten Al/Rachel out of my system (until the next book!), so back to more familiar waters…Trench ho! (oui, is it me or is that last bit begging to be taken in a naughty way?)

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3. Consummation

The jump across lines was sudden, but for once I didn't find myself in the Ever After with him. The night air was fresh and I could feel the wetness from the grass seeping into my socks. Of course I'd forgotten shoes, how the hell could I think about shoes with my body raging like a mutant prom queen on a caffeine bender.

"Damn, this time of year they should be in bloom," Al said angrily, though his disappointment didn't slow his hurried motions as he spread the blanket, trying a few times before it lay mostly evenly on the grass. He looked at me expectantly, and instead of meeting his eager red eyes, I looked up instead. We were in a park or a large garden of sorts, and the trees had been planted close enough so that the many branches tangled overhead, black shadows cutting up the solid blue of the night sky. They must have been fruit trees of some kind, but the few blossoms to be seen were blighted by late frosts, small and withered but still stubbornly clinging to the branches overhead. They had bloomed, unaware of the dangers, and now would never blossom into their full beauty or potential, never grow into anything beyond a delicate flower.

"Al," I said uneasily. He was near me as soon as I opened my mouth. Close enough so that our fronts were almost touching, he reached his arms out, running them gently up and down my arms. I knew he was looking down at me, but I didn't look up at him, afraid of what I might see on his face. I stared at the ridiculously elaborate lace on his shirt instead, trying to follow the pattern in the inky night.

"Sorry love, they're supposed to be night-blooming. The most vibrant purples and blues," he said, sounding more than vaguely disappointed. I had to glance up at him. Was Al really sad there were no flowers above us?

But his eyes didn't look sad, they looked eager. Hungry. Go figure. I stifled an overly dramatic gulp and looked away but stayed close to him. He was practically radiating body heat, and it was cold out here. Maybe that would help me keep my clothes on?

"Rachel," he said again, softly and almost sweetly, but I pulled my head away when he tried to tilt my chin up and make me face him. His arms closed around me, not tightly but securely. "You're trembling," he said in that same soft voice. I knew I was, and it wasn't entirely from the cold.

"I'm cold," I said stiffly, trying to forget other reasons why my skin felt like arcing with electrical currents.

"Let me warm you up," Al said, the whisper long gone and his voice now sultry, suggestive, and totally cliché Al. I opened my mouth to protest or shoot down his less-than-clever witticism, but the air pressure around us changed suddenly, then popped, loudly. It was almost exactly like when someone travels on a ley line, and I jumped, my eyes wide with terror as I scanned the area, searching for another figure.

Al's hand on the back of my neck brought me back towards him, and I couldn't help my arms wrapping around him tightly. I buried my face in his shirt. If someone else, another demon had shown up, I didn't want to see, hear, or smell him.

Al rocked me slightly against him and was whispering soothing nothings that took me a moment to realize were not in English. It didn't sound like Latin either, though my Latin was atrocious according to Al, but at least that meant he wasn't trying to cast a spell.

"The air…?" I managed to ask tentatively, my voice almost completely muffled by the starched fabric of his shirt. I shifted my face slightly so my cheek rested on the softer velvet.

"To keep you warm, Rachel. Nothing else," he said softly, and it took me a moment to realize that it had gotten warmer. I glanced around cautiously. There was no one else here. It was only us. I couldn't help but sigh in relief. This was complicated enough, I sure as hell didn't need another demon here.

"You're safe with me," Al said, his tone even, his voice almost stiff. I couldn't help but reach up for his face, and he didn't stop me this time. I rested my palm on his face, he'd already healed the scratches, and stared up at him, somewhat amazed that he was staring down at me with something that almost looked…loving in his eyes.

_Al, I can't do this,_ was what I wanted to say, but his lips came down on mine, and all that came out of my mouth was a deep moan. Without even thinking about it, I opened my mouth for him, and he had to support my weight almost entirely when my legs gave way under the sensation of his hot tongue darting into my mouth. But he wasn't holding me for long; more smoothly than I could have imagined, he eased us down onto the blanket. I had one hand gripping his shoulder almost roughly and the other clawed ineffectively at the soft fabric of the blanket as Al continued exploring my mouth with his probing tongue. It was all I could do to keep breathing, to keep from writhing underneath him or lashing out at him. My body was so torn, raging yet sick with indecision and I was tempted to kiss him back or give him a black eye. As if sensing my turmoil, Al's hands stopped their busy circuit of stroking up and down my sides to grasp, almost gently, my wrists and pin my hands above my head. Maybe it was instinct, maybe all female demons are dangerous in these situations, though it seemed Newt was the one who had taken it too far. I suddenly felt like slamming my head against the grass. _I am not a demon I am not a demon, _I tried to repeat to myself, but the words seemed a pointless exercise as Al continued kissing me into submission.

He finally broke away, and something like a cross between a whimper and a moan came from my suddenly freed mouth. "Al," I managed to say when some sanity leaked back into me, but cried out again when I felt his bare hands on my skin. He had released my wrists and was pushing my shirt up, running his hands over my bare skin. I couldn't see his face anymore; he had moved down my body, and his mouth soon joined his hands gliding over my bare skin, licking my stomach in long, smooth strokes like a child savoring his favorite flavor of ice cream. I couldn't help it anymore; I moved underneath him, writhing with his touch. As if that was the response he was waiting for, he tore my shirt all the way off, his rough hands cupping my breasts as his mouth worked its way up. I grabbed his hair when his mouth sealed itself over one of my nipples, mussing it in my desperate grasp. I half-expected for him to pull away, to chastise me and free himself from my grip, but he only seemed further encouraged by my reactions. Al sucked harder and added teeth to his ministrations, making the sharp edge of teeth an erotic contrast against the moist softness of his mouth, lips, and tongue.

The park must have been out of the way because I was making a far amount of noise and we had not been interrupted. When he finally released my nipple to work the other one, I had relinquished my death grip on his hair, which was softer than it looked, and had my fingers buried in the skin over his hips, his shirt having ridden up and his coat discarded. My writhing took on a more familiar rhythm as I bucked my hips ineffectively a few times. The pressure, the need, which had felt gentler once Al had his hands on me, was raging inside me once again and none of my movements, or Al's, were doing anything to dissipate it. My hips were still moving, practically on their own it seemed, when Al finally released my breast from his mouth and I groaned in a mix of relief and frenzy.

Al pulled himself up, his face only a little above mine, and planted a gentle kiss on my forehead that would have seemed chaste if it hadn't been for the fact that I could feel his bulging erection on my bare stomach through the heavy linen of his pants. I was looking up at his eyes and really not thinking, my legs opened for him, but he already had his legs between mine. I couldn't remember when that had happened, which frightened a little bit of sense into me.

"Al, I can't do this," I finally managed to get out in a cracked whisper. I deserved a fucking parade for getting those words out my mouth. But it was like an immense weight lifting from me; I had said no, finally. I tried not to think about the downside to this; what was I going to do if Al ignored my rejection? It wouldn't be very hard, I had verbally set a boundary but my terrible traitor hormone-saturated body had been saying some very different things.

"Rachel, get your damn pants off," Al said in a husky whisper near my ear.

Okay, Plan A out the door. Before I could get breath to argue, or cuss him out, he was gently kissing my cheek, my neck, licking delicately at my collar bone and nuzzling my shoulders as if to off-set the coarseness of his words. He pointedly ignored my vampire scar, and I wasn't sure if I was relieved or disappointed by this.

"I know this is frightening, Rachel," he said, his voice as soft and soothing as the kisses he was planting almost reverently on my skin. In any other situation, I'd be pretty freaked out with him using my real name so many times in a row and not some annoying nickname, but when we were being this…intimate, it just seemed ridiculous to bitch about names. "Despite your fervor, I know you may not want to mate."

_Mate?_ Oh god, what have I gotten myself into? He didn't say it like a joke either, or with any awkwardness. But then, it was easier for me forget about the whole no-demon-babies-born-in-five-thousand-years, not so much for him and every other denizen of the Ever After.

"But I can do other things for you, Rachel, to help tame that fire almost as effectively," Al purred against my skin, and I shuddered as his hands slid down the length of my body.

My imagination had plenty of suggestions of what those _other things_ might be, and so, sufficiently distracted, I was a little less-than-helpful but not at all a deterrent as Al unbuttoned my jeans and started working them down my thighs. And really, before I could even think of a protest, Al cupped my groin in a far-too-familiar way, but his touch had me kicking my legs to help him get my pants all the way off. He started playing with the edges of my panties, pulling the elastic to make it snap and sliding fingers across my covered skin, teasing. I cried out in frustration before Al finally pulled them off, leaving me naked underneath him in the middle of who-knows-where at night.

In a sudden rush of decision, I grabbed both his hands in mine, pulling his body all the way against mine but successfully halting the sensuous paths his hands had been making along my completely unguarded skin.

"Promise," I said, my mouth against the side of his neck. I couldn't help but flick my tongue out along the tender skin under his ear, finally tasting him as he had already tasted me.

Al shuddered on top of me. He pulled slightly on his hands, but I held on. He could have freed himself if he had really wanted to, but he was behaving for me. "I won't, unless you ask me for it," he replied, and it was my turn to shudder. I released his hands, not sure if I felt safer about the whole thing or not. Unless I ask him? My body was blazing with need, I didn't want to think about just how desperately I might ask Al to do quite a few things.

Once I had freed his hands, he didn't hesitate. He didn't kiss a trail down my body or slide himself down slowly, didn't give me a second to feel anymore hesitation; we'd apparently spent enough time with foreplay. His mouth was in between my legs before I could find something new to grab hold of, and I obligingly spread wide for him as his tongue started flicking tenderly against my most sensitive skin.

If I thought I had been loud before, it was nothing compared to now. We were out in the open, yet I could swear I was hearing echoes of my own pleasure-induced cries. Al seemed to love it, watching my face hungrily as he continued to perform what had to be the most amazing oral sex, ever. I felt my body tightening spasmodically, and Al slid a finger inside me to send me over the edge. I screamed when my climax finally came with Al's tongue furiously caressing my clitoris and his finger pumping in and out of my body.

My body was humming with energy, but I felt spent. I felt like I'd both run a marathon and woken from a long nap. Al lay alongside me, his face buried in my hair, one of his hands stroking my stomach rhythmically. I had utterly no reservations about falling asleep out in the open, naked, after having been intimate with a demon…maybe that was a warning? But the…insanity, for lack of a better word, seemed gone. I tried shifting through my thoughts to find alien feelings and cravings, but couldn't. Not necessarily because they weren't there, but because I was just too content, too satisfied, that it felt like a form of exhaustion. I felt my hair shift as Al cleared it away from my face and ran a finger teasingly down my cheek. His tongue tickled my ear, and I shoved at his shoulder.

"Hmm, Rachel?" he asked, his voice dripping with his British accent.

"Uh, what?" I said, feeling completely uncouth, but I was at a disadvantage here, damn it. Al hadn't had his brains fucked out, so of course he could still think clearly.

"I asked, love, if it was good for you?"

"You know it was. I think everybody in the county limits knew it was," I said, going for nonchalance, but I was silently berating myself. Al laughed softly in my ear and I shuddered.

"And how do you feel?" he asked, and I wanted to hit him, but turning to look at his face, I thought I saw real concern there for a moment.

I turned away, tried to bury my face in the blanket. Al caught my shoulder and turned me back to face him.

"Rachel?" he asked softly, holding me closer to him, but not touching anymore than necessary. I had to wonder if he felt it to, if he'd just been toying with me. But his voice sounded genuinely confused, or at least uneasy.

"I don't know," I finally said, and I buried my face in his shoulder, luxuriating in the feel of his skin for a moment before trying to pull myself back. But Al caught me and kept me against him. Always such a controlling bastard, though I wasn't sure if I was genuinely upset by this at the moment.

"Your…heat is still present, then?" he asked, his voice indifferent. But I'd known him long enough to hear the excitement he was trying to hide. It would be in his eyes too, no matter how cunningly he tried to conceal it. I didn't have the guts to look up at him.

"You never answered me," I accused, but I just didn't have the motivation to stay pissed at him. "What is this?" I asked said without the edge in my voice. Because whatever "this" damn thing was, I could feel it again under my skin, waiting for the moment of weakness it could come rising to the surface one more. God, how long was this going to last? I pushed my face tighter against the hard muscles in his shoulder and kept telling myself I would not cry.

"Females go through cycles, or they are supposed to. But they generally reset themselves before they are due, so even without the lovely interference from the elves, there's always been a dangerously low birth-rate," he sneered the last bit, but I did what I always did when he was working his panties into a twist, which was to ignore him. Well, ignore his words at least; I couldn't ignore his presence, his smell, his still far-too-clothed body pressing against my naked skin. His hand was moving up and down my back, maybe trying to comfort me, but knowing Al, he was probably already planning how we were going to try and change those downward statistics.

_Females_, he has said, _female demons_, he had meant, but I was trying not to obsess about that. I would worry and scream and cry about all that later over a galleon of ice cream. Or maybe at the gym with a punching bag. But right now, I needed information, at least I thought I did. My body was warming up again from the stupor I had felt after Al had brought me, and it was telling me that I needed a lot more than just information right now. I inhaled sharply, trying to pull Al's scent, now our scent, mixed from out earlier excursions, deep within me, hoping this tidbit would stave off my cravings for just a bit longer.

"And how do I make it do away?" I asked though I thought it a long shot. Like Al would really tell me how to make myself stop wanting to rip off his clothes and screw his brains out? I had to close me eyes tight and clench my fists for a moment. I had had an all too real mental image of just how I'd go about that whole thing with the clothes and the screwing. I didn't help when Al cupped my face forcefully in his hands, pulling me away from his shoulder and making me look him in the face.

"_We_ make it go away, love." The look in his eyes would have terrified me if I'd had time to think about it. But Al forced his lips down on mine. I was pulling on his shirt as he was struggling out of it without breaking our kiss. He didn't seem to mind that I'd managed to tear some of the buttons off his shirt in my eagerness. I ran my hands hungrily over his bare chest. I knew he'd be good-looking, being the arrogant show-off that he was, but finally have the feel of his bare skin under my hands was almost too much.

I broke our kiss just long enough to growl at him, "Al, get your damn pants off."

Al growled back at me, nipped lightly at my neck as he lifted himself enough to struggle out of his tight pants. I did some squirming of my own underneath him as his body pushed and bumped against mine. I was kissing him back, trying to drink him down like he was the last glass of water in an unfathomable desert when he finally got himself completely nude. I tried to break away enough to get a full view, because I was still lucid enough to be feeling pretty damn curious, but Al pushed himself back down on me, holding me to the kiss and against the ground as he thrust himself into me.

I screamed in a mix of pleasure and shock. I knew I would be plenty wet after he'd gone down on me, but he was large and thick, and I hadn't been expecting it so soon. He continued thrusting himself into me roughly, his whole body stiff above me.

"Al," I managed to cry out after a painfully deep thrust, hoping the quivering in my voice wouldn't urge him to up the pace.

He looked down at me, his eyes burning with desire and his face almost slack with need. I felt as well as heard the moan ripple through his body, but his hips stilled and slowed their pace. I dug fingernails into his shoulder; this was much better. I pulled his face back to mine and moaned into his mouth, savoring the taste of him as he slowly moved in and out of me.

Slowly, together, we worked up to a pace that suited us both. I was pawing at him like a teenager backstage for the first time and drunk on wine coolers. Our hips were moving together, so smoothly and purposefully like an ocean wave rolling inexorably towards the shore. I couldn't believe how amazing, how intimate it felt, and how close and complete I felt with Al, of all people.

But as amazing as it felt, I began to notice another need building-up in me just as the warm pressure of climax was steadily building in my loins. My aura felt thick and heavy with need around me, and instinctually I reached out for Al's, to share this weight, to shift it between us and revel in the power we could share. The sharp bite of pain made me jerk back, physically and metaphysically. "Behave, Rachel. Or I'll leave you unsatisfied." His threat seemed baseless, he was moving in and out of me just was enthusiastically as before, bringing me closer and closer to a release that promised to be earthshaking, both physically and otherwise.

"I want this, badly" Al said, his voice deep with need. His thrusting changed slightly, harder, fuller thrusts as if to illustrate how eager he had been to riot in my flesh. "But I would not risk death for it," he stated flatly, but his sucking on my earlobe lessened the sting. I could live with that: good sex but not good enough to die for. Why he thought me touching his aura during sex could be lethal was something I would have to file away to investigate later. I hadn't been thinking of what Newt was rumored to have done; I was only reacting to him in yet another way. Al could definitely piss me off enough to consider murdering him, but my actions hadn't been malicious in any way. It had seemed right.

"But I didn't…" I tried to explain, but concentrating on words felt beyond me. The feel of him above me, inside me, was too much. I just wanted to focus on this, though the heavy presence of his aura above me, almost pushing down on me as much as his body was, was still a tempting urge I was trying ignore in favor of the rush of physical sensations.

But I forgot about his aura, what I wanted to do to it with mine, as the warmth that had been persuasively gentle became sharp and finally exploded throughout my body, leaving me crying out incoherently as I slammed my hips against his to sustain the impossible momentum. Al convulsed against me and cried out something not in a language I'd ever heard before shoving himself into me one last time.

We were both panting and I had my arms wrapped around him like he was a life-preserver in tumultuous seas. We stayed that way for quite awhile, I wasn't exactly maintaining a strong concept of time at the moment. I shuddered and he groaned when he finally withdrew himself from me. Another smaller, colder wave of pleasure made my bare skin tingle, and I snuggled closer to Al. He pushed his lips against my temple then began kissing my hair while gently pushing wayward and sweaty strands of my wild red mane from my face.

"Better now?" Al's voice made me jump. I had fallen asleep in his arms. I nodded, but then noticed it was more than better. My supposedly demon-fertility-cycle craziness was gone, and I was naked with Al in some deserted park, cuddling after amazing sex.

I took a deep breath that I seriously needed. "It's gone," I said tentatively. Al's lips brushed the upper edge of my ear, but my shuddering was all of my own accord. Surprisingly, I couldn't muster the annoyance to bat him away from me. Even if I was fully in control of my hormones again, I felt restful, safe, and…maybe even loved in Al's arms. I relaxed back into his arms, resigned to enjoy the rest of the night as much as I could and freak out in the morning. Already, I could hear birds twittering in the trees above us, anxiously waiting for the sun to rise. I'd take any peace I could get for now. I rubbed my face against his bare shoulder and kissed his collar bone lightly, enjoying the small patch of goose bumps I'd raised. His red eyes fluttered open to regard me before easing close again. I rested my head back on his chest and let sleep overtake me.

* * *

This story, especially this chapter, is dedicated to the original Al/Rachel fanfic writer, TheEviLSurgeon, though her work is definitely more daring than mine.


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